He Is
by mokatster
Summary: They all know Aslan differently, but He doesn't change. He always is. Through Him, they discover themselves.
1. He Is Susan

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own any part of Narnia. Rating K+ (just to be safe) for some intense imagery. Several lines (particularly in Lucy's chapter) are very similar to some found in the book The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

**_A/N: _***waves* Hey everyone! This is the first story I've posted! I'd appreciate it if you took the time to review to let me know what you thought! Thanks, and happy reading!

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_**Susan**_

When I first heard His name, I felt things I had never felt before. The air around me seemed to swirl with mystery and wonder, and a glance at my siblings showed them to be similarly captivated. Despite all that had been happening—finding ourselves in a strange place with no hope of leaving anytime soon, Lucy's friend getting captured by the Witch, and Edmund acting so beastly—the mere sound of His name was enough to calm my worries for that moment. And though I felt a thrill of fear when the Beavers told us He was a lion, I realized that it seemed to fit with His name. It was so beautiful, yet powerful. I was terrified when I learned we were to meet Him, and yet I had never wanted anything with such desperate longing in my entire life.

When we discovered that Edmund had gone to the Witch, I thought everything was hopeless. How on earth were we to get him back? "Aslan," the Beavers whispered, and my heart seemed to soar and tremble all at once.

On our way to the Stone Table, I was so afraid of the Witch and her pursuing wolves. I was so afraid she would kill Edmund. But then I would whisper His name to myself, and feel that mysterious combination of hope and fear rise within me.

When at last we reached the camp, I was astonished at the variety of creatures there to greet us. But all the while, my eyes and my heart were searching for the One we had come to see. And yet, strangely, despite my longing, my fear was so great I wanted to hide behind Peter.

We stopped in front of a grand pavilion at the head of the camp. The entire assembly sank into a bow, and I waited alongside my siblings with bated breath.

My heart seemed to stop when He finally emerged. I saw His terrible paws flatten the grass, and watched His powerful muscles flexing as He approached. Trembling, I was hardly aware of sinking to my knees and bowing my head. I was in the presence of One so omnipotent, I was too frightened to look into His face. I don't know what gave me the courage to finally do so.

I lifted my head, and His eyes held mine for several heartbeats. The love I saw in their depths was enough to leave me breathless.

And I realized—He is Gentle.


	2. He Is Edmund

_**Edmund**_

At first I found myself torn. I had seen the Witch for who she really was, and wanted nothing more to do with her. But I knew it wasn't going to be easy to get away. Besides, where else could I go? I knew the others had to have gone to meet Aslan at the Stone Table. The horror I had felt when I first heard His name had since morphed into a different kind of fear. But I still felt I would rather avoid Him, if I could.

Ginarrbrik, that miserable piece of filth, only encouraged this. Like the Witch, he seemed to know every bitter and angry thought I had ever harbored against another. He knew my darkest fears that I had, until then, guarded carefully in my heart. Bound to a tree, gagged against any defiance I might have voiced, I was forced to listen to his taunting. He mocked me for wanting to be special. He jeered, pointing out that I would soon be the most treasured statue in her Majesty's collection. He tried to get me to believe my family was already dead and took great delight in describing exactly how the wolves had mangled their bodies. He told me they had all died cursing me.

He convinced me there was no hope of rescue, and that even if there was, I would be better off dead. He told me terrible things about Aslan.

"The Lion don't suffer traitors in Narnia," he leered, rubbing his hands together with glee. I had tried to hide my fear, but it must have been apparent in my eyes. "He'll burn ya right up with his eyes, he will. No questions asked. Once a traitor, always a traitor."

The dwarf's tormenting was constant. Even when my exhaustion drew me into a restless sleep, his words were still there, turning my troubled dreams into outright nightmares. So when a group of Narnians came to rescue me and told me they were to take me to Aslan, I was more terrified than I had been in my entire life.

Too soon, I was brought before Him. I fell, shaking, on my hands and knees and stared at His mighty paws. For a long while He said nothing at all, but I could feel His eyes boring into the top of my bowed head. When He ordered me to look at Him, I was compelled to do so; the thought of refusing never occurred to me. My eyes met His, and my breath caught in my throat.

He was just as terrible as Ginarrbrik had said. But His beauty and presence held me spellbound. Merely to be in the presence of One such as Him after all I had done was enough to make my eyes burn with tears and overwhelm my heart with the realization of my own unworthiness. At that moment, I realized that if He wanted to burn me to cinders with His eyes then and there, I would have been glad to have Him do so.

But He didn't. Instead, He bid me to walk with Him. As He spoke to me, I realized that He knew me better than I knew myself. He helped me recognize that I was not beyond redemption as I had been made to believe. But He also warned that a terrible price would have to be paid for what I had done.

He made me hope again. Despite the dire consequences He promised, I was not too afraid. If Aslan told me something terrible would happen, I had no desire to fight against it. If He said it was deserved, then it was.

Because I had realized—He is Just.


	3. He Is Lucy

_**Lucy**_

I was having an awful time trying to fall asleep. I remember telling Susan that I felt as if something terrible were hanging over us; some dark shadow that would never go away, even if it had been daylight. I knew it had to be about Aslan because of what I had seen earlier. We had all been celebrating because He had somehow convinced the Witch not to kill Edmund on the Stone Table. After hugging Edmund as tightly as I could, my eyes sought Aslan. I didn't know what He had said, but it was thanks to Him my brother wasn't going to die.

I was stunned when I saw the look on His face—I don't believe anyone has ever felt as lonely as He looked at that moment. His expression haunted me for the rest of the day and chased away all possibility of sleep that night. I could not shake the feeling that Aslan was going to do something dreadful, or that something dreadful was going to happen to Him.

When I saw Aslan's silhouette on the wall of our tent, I sat up. He was leaving. And I knew we had to follow Him. He, of course, knew we were trailing along, so He stopped and allowed us to accompany Him.

I had never thought one could possibly feel sad around Aslan. But that night was the saddest in my whole life. How could I have felt anything but sadness, when He was so sorrowful? It felt like the entire world was coming to an end.

I was terrified when He left us to continue alone. Susan and I crept to the edge of the trees to watch Him. We watched as He made His way through a horde of terrible creatures. We watched as He stopped in front of the Witch, who bore a stone knife. We watched as He never lifted a paw to defend Himself when the mass of vermin swarmed to kick Him, rip handfuls of His beautiful fur, and tie Him tightly with terrible ropes.

I was soon sobbing with fear and anger. I didn't understand. Why wouldn't He fight back? He was so much more than any of them—why was He allowing this to happen?

The crowd parted as He was dragged before the Witch. And I noticed for the first time that she was standing on a stone table. With a sudden thrill of horror, I recognized what was happening. He was taking Edmund's place. He was allowing Himself to be sacrificed.

Moments before the knife came down, His saddened eyes met my own. Through my horror and grief, I knew that He was about to give everything. He had faced humiliation, pain, and death so Edmund could live. So Narnia could be saved.

And I realized—He is Valiant.


	4. He Is Peter

_**Peter**_

Learning of Aslan's death was the worst moment in my entire life. I remember feeling stunned and then incredulous. Death was something that happened to normal beings, not One such as Aslan. But when I said as much, the Dryad who brought us the news tilted her head in confusion.

"I do not know what you mean by 'normal,' Majesty," she said, her lovely voice darkened with sorrow. "But for One as real as Aslan—indeed, He is more real than any of us ever could be on our own—it seems well within His power to experience anything." She didn't wait for me to respond nor did she offer an explanation concerning the circumstances surrounding Aslan's death, but left as soon as she voiced her declaration.

My heart sank, and fear welled up inside my chest. How on earth could we pull this off without Aslan? I looked at Edmund, and though I knew he had to feel as horrified as I did, he did not seem to be afraid. His eyes were fierce, his face determined. I took a deep breath, drawing strength from my brother's courage.

We would do this for Narnia, the world Aslan had created and loved. We would do this for Aslan Himself.

In the midst of battle, though, I found myself expecting to suffer Aslan's fate. For all I knew, Edmund already had. I had been watching, horrified, as the Witch mercilessly stabbed him in the gut with her wand. I had charged her recklessly, fury driving me forward, giving me the energy and power I needed to hack at her with my sword again and again.

I knew was losing. I knew it was only a matter of time. But I wouldn't—_couldn't_—give up. I was fighting for Edmund. I was fighting for Aslan. And that was enough to help me endure.

A tremendous force suddenly shook the earth, stalling the skirmishes going on all across the battlefield. It rattled my armor, vibrated in my chest and pounded my ears. For a split second I was stunned, wondering what it was. And then I knew—it was His roar. It was _Him._

My eyes scanned the far end of the plain and my heart leaped joyfully to see the golden Lion at the head of a wave of reinforcements. Aslan had come, miraculously, and as if His own power and might were not enough, He was bringing us a whole other army. Relief and joy melded together within me and my heart beat painfully against my ribs as I stared at Aslan in amazement.

But the Witch was raising her swords again and coming at me furiously. I fought desperately, but I knew it was over. She was done playing; she was going to end it. She rid me of my sword. Then my shield. Then she pinned me to the ground, spinning her sword and preparing to deal me a fatal blow.

And then—He was there. And she was gone.

I freed myself as quickly as I could, jumping up to rejoin the fray. But then I saw Him, and time seemed to stand still. I was vaguely aware of my heart pounding wildly in my chest, but all my other senses were entirely consumed by Him.

Standing tall over the Witch's corpse, having conquered both Winter and Death, He seemed to me more beautiful, majestic, and powerful than ever before. His entire presence consumed me; His reality had never been more commanding than at that moment.

And I realized—He is Magnificent.


	5. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

The four kings and queens of Narnia grew to know Aslan more and more with each passing year. The more they learned, the more they wanted to know. As their knowledge of Him increased, the way they saw themselves changed. They realized that they had become more themselves than they had ever been before. None of them understood how they had ever lived before knowing Him.

Then they were back in England, cut off from Him. They each felt as if they were walking through a perpetual mist of doubt and confusion. Who were they, without Aslan there to guide them, to love them? What was life, if not an opportunity to discover more of Aslan? Aslan was not in England, so there they could not possibly live.

Again and again they were drawn back to Narnia—to Him. When it came time to leave and never return, it was promised that they would still meet Him. And so they searched. Three found Him. One fell away. But though she was lost, she will inevitably find herself drawn back to Him. And they all four will live fully, pursuing Him recklessly with their entire hearts, risking all just to know Him and to be with Him.

Because they all realize—He is Life. He is Love.


End file.
